


Friends, Benefits, and All Those Stupid Feelings

by AntarcticBird



Series: Kind of a Thing [1]
Category: Glee
Genre: M/M, Skank Kurt Hummel
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-09-22
Updated: 2014-09-22
Packaged: 2018-02-18 09:54:19
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,653
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2344175
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AntarcticBird/pseuds/AntarcticBird
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Written for the prompt: ”You are cute but we’re not going to be a thing.”</p>
            </blockquote>





	Friends, Benefits, and All Those Stupid Feelings

The first time it happens Blaine is surprised at first, but definitely very happy. He's been fascinated by Kurt since the day he first saw him, unable to stop staring at him whenever he had the opportunity; he hasn't seen very many guys with pink streaks in their hair and eyebrow piercings and a constant scowl on their faces who also managed to look so … adorable at the same time. Fascination had quickly turned into a bit of a crush, and he'd just barely managed to not squeal with excitement when their English teacher had paired them up for a semester-long project.

Long afternoons in Blaine's bedroom studying and working together turn into long afternoons in Blaine's bedroom hanging out with their schoolwork mostly ignored on the floor between them. They're not friends, not exactly. At school, Blaine has his friends and Kurt has his own and they don't ignore each other, but they don't seek each other out either.

Sometimes Blaine wonders if Kurt is embarrassed to be seen with him, but he's never hostile. He's just – they simply run in different circles, is all.

In Blaine's room, alone together, Kurt is funny and sarcastic and quick-witted and so cute Blaine wants to just kiss his face and curl up in his lap and maybe play with the piercings in his ears. But he doesn't, because he's quite sure that that would be the end of them hanging out, and he enjoys this too much.

He doesn't quite know how it happens, but it's December and freezing outside and they're having hot tea while they work. It's Kurt who looks up at him first, eyes slightly narrowed, a curious expression on his face.

“What?” Blaine asks.

“You were humming,” Kurt explains, though Blaine doesn't think that's all. “It's a little distracting.”

“Sorry.” Blaine grins. “Just in a good mood, I guess.”

“You're always in a good mood.”

Blaine shrugs. “I just – I like hanging out with you?”

Kurt nods, expression still thoughtful, and Blaine watches with fascination and growing excitement bubbling up in his chest as he leans forward slowly, almost calculatingly, closing the distance between them.

It's a brief kiss, searching, a little tentative, but it's also the first time he has another boy's lips on his, and Blaine shivers. “Oh,” he breathes, as Kurt draws back.

“You taste like peppermint tea,” Kurt comments, sounding happily surprised about it, tongue flicking out over his bottom lip as if to chase Blaine's taste there.

Blaine sways into him, recapturing his lips, and they abandon their class project in favor of making out all afternoon instead.

**

They don't mention it again and the next time Kurt comes over, all they do is work on their project. There's nothing uncomfortable between them, Kurt isn't any different than he usually is, they just – don't mention it. At all.

**

It's the week before the Christmas holidays and Blaine will be leaving for his family vacation in a few days, and technically their project is done and handed in already. But Kurt still comes over at the usual time, and Blaine finds that he's not actually really surprised to see him. It's like he'd known.

He spends his afternoon in his bedroom losing his virginity to Kurt.

Judging from all the fumbling and flailing and hesitating, it's Kurt's first time too, but neither of them mention it. They don't talk much at all, in fact.

Instead, they touch and grope and roll around on Blaine's rumpled sheets, they kiss and they look and push press _pull_ at each other to get closer, to get to that delicious edge of arousal and then tip over it, together.

They don't talk, but they breathe and gasp and cry out and whimper, they laugh and giggle breathlessly and swear on the end of choked off moans as their hands explore hungrily.

Blaine kisses Kurt's eyebrow right over the piercing and runs his hands hungrily down the smooth skin of his back, the muscles moving underneath making him pant with hot spikes of want.

Kurt nips at the soft part of Blaine's belly, fingers caressing the insides of his thighs as if he's mapping them.

It's messy and a little weird and so, so good, and they slip and slide and there are elbows accidentally colliding with ribs and toenails scratching each other's legs and it's – perfect, Blaine thinks. It's slow, it's intimate, it's _fun_.

But most of all it's Kurt's gentleness that shakes him, the way he touches him so carefully, eyes wide and pink hair falling over his forehead as his fingers wrap around Blaine's dick for the first time, determined but still asking for permission.

Blaine clings to Kurt as he comes hard with Kurt's hand stroking him through it, his own fingers digging into the skin of Kurt's shoulders as the world explodes into a rush of pleasure.

He barely gets his own hand on Kurt's cock before Kurt follows him with a low, shaky whimper, spilling over Blaine's skin and making them even messier.

Nothing has ever felt better.

**

Kurt is cleaned up and dressed and ready to leave when Blaine finally says what he's been wondering ever since the aftershocks stopped trembling through his body.

“So, what was this?” He knows it's probably a stupid question. He knows it's not like _that_ , it never has been, between them. And he's cool with that, he just – wants to hear it.

Kurt raises an eyebrow at him, and his skin is back to pale as usual, the adorable flush that was there before no longer visible. “I'm pretty sure we just had sex, Blaine.”

Blaine rolls his eyes. “I _know_ that. I was there. That's not what I meant.”

Kurt looks worried for a moment. “Blaine – you know we're not – you didn't expect us to -”

“No,” Blaine admits, shrugging. “Not really. I guess I just wanted to say – if you wanted to. You know. I'd be okay with it.”

Kurt bites his lip, still looking a bit uncomfortable. “I – don't,” he says. “Is that okay? I mean. You're cute, but we're not going to be … a thing. You know that, right? That's not what I want.”

Blaine beams at him. “You think I'm cute?”

Kurt sighs exaggeratedly. “ _That's_ what you're taking from what I just said?”

“You think I'm cute,” Blaine repeats happily, bouncing a little on the unmade bed. “That's so sweet, Kurt, thank you.”

“You're an asshole,” Kurt tells him, quickly leaning down for a parting kiss on the lips.

“For the record, I think you're really cute too,” Blaine calls after him.

Kurt gives him a wave and pulls the door closed behind himself.

Blaine falls back onto his messed up bed and grins up at the ceiling.

**

They go right back to their strange friendship as soon as school starts up again – there is no more class project to be working on so they hang out less, but they still do hang out. Usually Kurt comes over unannounced, follows Blaine up to his room when he opens the door, and they spend the rest of the day playing video games, watching TV, or sometimes Kurt reads one of Blaine's books while Blaine messes around on his guitar. One afternoon Blaine lets Kurt paint his nails black and another time they spend an afternoon googling images of tattoos because Kurt thinks about getting one eventually. Blaine puts a bow tie on Kurt (a bright pink one with little cars on it, it contrasts so nicely with Kurt's black clothes) which makes Kurt glower at him until Blaine wheezes with laughter. It's comfortable.

It's the third week of classes when they have sex again; it's not planned but Blaine knows that that's what's going to happen as soon as he opens the door for Kurt that day.

Maybe it's something about the set of his jaw, the sparkle in his eyes, or just the tense energy between them. But Blaine is not at all surprised when Kurt closes the door to Blaine's room behind them, turns around to him, and pushes him down onto the bed, parted mouths crashing together and Kurt's tongue thrusting inside without preamble.

Clothes are lost quickly and frantically and this time, Kurt seems to know what he wants exactly, positioning Blaine on the bed the way he wants him, touching him firmly and without hesitation.

Blaine lets himself sink back against the mattress, panting and dizzy with arousal underneath Kurt, and lets him have what he wants, gives him everything. It feels amazing.

**

After that second time, it just sort of keeps happening – not every time they hang out, but often enough. They start mentioning it even – not in so many words, just Kurt walking up to Blaine at school, stopping next to his locker, waiting until Blaine catches his eyes.

“It's been a while,” Kurt says, fiddling with a piercing in his ear, and Blaine knows what he means without asking.

“Three days,” Blaine points out.

Kurt raises an eyebrow at him. “I'm free this afternoon if you are.”

“Cool,” Blaine agrees, and Kurt walks off.

Sometimes they just hang out, like they used to. Other times, they end up in bed together. There's no purpose, no pattern to it. They're … friends with benefits? Blaine doesn't know if that's the best expression for what they are. But it seems like the best way to describe them.

It seems the best way to explain Kurt jogging after him in the school parking lot, the sound of his heavy combat boots quickly catching up to Blaine before he can reach out and put a hand on his shoulder to stop him.

“Are your parents home?”

Blaine shakes his head, already feeling the familiar rush of anticipation starting to pool in the region of his groin. “Nope.”

“Perfect,” Kurt says, piercings glinting in the gentle rays of the spring sun before he climbs into the passenger seat of Blaine's car without further explanation.

**

The problem with having casual sex with the guy you've been crushing on hard for well over a year, Blaine thinks as Kurt's head bobs between his legs, is that it leaves you really sort of confused after a while about what you're actually feeling.

Now, as he threads his fingers through Kurt's pink hair, pressure building deep within too fast too good too soon, he feels – he feels _amazing_ , most of all. He's getting a blow job, and a damn good one at that, and he's about to come so fucking hard any moment now – down the throat of the cutest, loveliest, sweetest, most overwhelmingly perfect and complicated boy he has ever met in his life.

God, he _adores_ Kurt, and deep down he knows it's not just because they're friends, and it's not just because Kurt gives him all those spectacular orgasms on a regular basis.

He whimpers softly as his hips rock off the bed, body straining, straining for release. Kurt hums around him and presses his tongue to that sensitive spot right under the head and Blaine comes with a cry that would embarrass him if his body wasn't so busy being wrecked by wave after wave of scorching, bone-deep bliss.

Falling back onto the mattress, he gasps for breath, and no, this isn't all there is.

He's in love.

 _Fuck_.

But then Kurt crawls up his body, still hard cock nudging Blaine's thigh, and Blaine flips them over, slides down that gorgeous, sweaty body while Kurt swears and curses above him, impatient and utterly breathtaking as he sinks his fingers through Blaine's curls to guide his head between his thighs with firm hands.

And Blaine can't think of it merely as _returning the favor_ as he takes Kurt's dick into his mouth, lips stretching around the silky-hard width of him. He's not reciprocating. He's _worshiping_ him. And fuck, he never, _never_ wants to stop.

**

The thing about his realization is that he kind of expected himself to crave their random hook ups even more, to go from happily excited over sex to _needing_ it all the time.

And, dear god, he enjoys it. So much. Whatever they do. It's just – Kurt touches him and the sun comes up and everything is the best and he feels like his feet never even touch the ground anymore, he's so head over heels for him.

But while Kurt is as attentive and fun-loving and relaxed as ever in bed, it doesn't take long for Blaine to realize that the rest of the time, he's kind of withdrawn now.

He rarely comes over just to hang out anymore. They nod at each other from a distance when they're at school, but Kurt never walks up to him anymore. And when Blaine has had enough and starts at a brisk pace down the hallway toward him when he sees Kurt leaning against the row of lockers with Puck, Kurt flickers one glance at him and slips around a corner and out of sight. Blaine searches for him until the bell rings, but doesn't see him again all day.

He sighs. And, he understands, as much as he loves it when they fuck, he'd rather have his friend back. For some reason, they'd been closer before they'd touched each other's naked bodies. And he wants that back.

**

Kurt fucks him hard that afternoon, fast and deep and desperate, and Blaine curls his fingers against the headboard, swaying back and forth on his knees with the force of Kurt's thrusts.

It's amazing, god, it feels so fucking amazing, muscles seizing up hard and his mouth falling open around a soundless scream as he comes his fucking brains out.

Kurt lets him slump down onto the bed once he's done, then slides back inside to keep fucking him, through aftershocks and into oversensitivity but Blaine doesn't mind. He needs Kurt to come inside of him, however long it takes.

“Tell me this okay,” Kurt pants against Blaine's neck, “Please, I – tell me, I can stop, I can -”

“Don't you dare,” Blaine breathes. “Keep going, keep going, oh _god_ -”

He can't come again so soon, but he still feels it everywhere when Kurt does, and it's more than the wet panting breath against his shoulder blade, more than the fingernails scratching his skin, more than the big, pulsing cock moving in his ass, driven by erratically twitching hips.

It's – love. He knows it is. It's the overwhelming feeling of knowing the kind of pleasure Kurt is feeling right now, and knowing that he gave that to him.

God, he wants to hold him so badly, wants to tangle his fingers in that pink hair, kiss that wonderful mouth, play with the piercings until Kurt bats his hand away.

He wants to tell him that he's beautiful. He wants to kiss the sweaty skin over his heart and sink into his arms and admit everything. _Yours_ , he wants to tell him, _I'm yours_.

“Your ass is magnificent,” Kurt gasps, sounding a little wrecked himself, and kisses Blaine's shoulder.

Blaine giggles, rolling over underneath him to meet his eyes with a satisfied grin. “I know.”

Kurt grins back shakily and weakly slaps his arm before collapsing on top of him, needing a moment to catch his breath.

**

“So, I have tickets for Rent,” Blaine attempts lamely a week later as Kurt swivels his hips back into his tight black pants, the chain attached to it jingling in the otherwise quiet bedroom.

“That's nice,” Kurt comments without emotion, bending down to pick up his discarded shirt.

“I have two, actually,” Blaine clarifies.

“Then you should take someone,” Kurt suggests, throwing him a teasing smile over his shoulder as he slips his arms into the shirt.

It's only because Blaine knows him so well by now that he can recognize the faint trace of nervousness in the corner of Kurt's eyes.

“I kind of wanted to ask you,” Blaine admits. “Um. It's – this Thursday, and I know it's short notice, but I -”

“I'm sorry, Blaine,” Kurt interrupts, and there's a small note of anger in his otherwise even voice. “I can't.”

“No, I thought so.” Blaine can't help the disappointment sinking into his chest, but he smiles through it, running a hand through his hair, still tangled and mussed up from Kurt's eager hand minutes before. “Of course you have plans already -”

“Uh, no, I don't,” Kurt says, blinking at him. “Blaine, I -”

“Then why won't you go with me?” Blaine asks, and he realizes it sounds pleading, childish, but dammit, his stupid little heart can't help but hold onto hope, Kurt means too much to him.

Kurt sighs, and he looks very unhappy now. “I was afraid that this would happen,” he says. “I – fuck, Blaine, can't we just – _fuck_.” He breaks off, lifting his shoulders, looking utterly defeated.

“We fuck plenty,” Blaine reminds him.

“No, I mean – can't we just – be friends?”

Blaine frowns. “Friends can't see a community theater production of a great musical together?”

“I don't like musicals,” Kurt tries, and Blaine almost has to laugh.

“Yes, you do. I've been in your car. I've seen the CDs hidden away in your glove compartment.”

Kurt grins back at him, then his face falls. “Blaine, you know why this is a bad idea.”

Blaine shakes his head. “But actually, I don't. I mean. We're friends. We get along great. And I think I l- I think there's something there. Don't you? Something … more?”

“No,” Kurt whispers, shaking his head firmly. “No, there isn't. There – I have to go. I should – I have to go.” And with that, he turns and leaves so quickly Blaine can't even find the words to say goodnight, much less convince him to stay.

**

Kurt doesn't come over again the next afternoon, or the next, or the one after that.

Blaine waits, but deep down he already knows – whatever they had, whatever they were, Kurt is done with it. Done with them. What he can't figure out is _why_.

The obvious explanation is that it's always been one-sided; Blaine was falling in love while all Kurt wanted was a fuck buddy. But Blaine doesn't think so. He's not naïve, he's not delusional. But he's … inherently optimistic and hopeful. And he believes, he really firmly believes, that Kurt had felt it too, whatever it was that they had, even if maybe not quite to the same degree that Blaine had.

Or maybe, he thinks, lying in bed after a long day, alone with his thoughts in the way that always makes everything just that much more complicated than it is in the bright light of day, maybe Kurt really doesn't care. Maybe he's made up the whole thing in his head.

He doesn't cry. Not that night. But he can't deny that he kind of wants to.

**

It takes him two weeks of waiting and hoping and doubting and missing Kurt so fiercely that it hurts before he musters up the courage to approach him at school.

His brightly colored head of hair is easy enough to spot even in a crowded hallway, and Blaine starts walking with a determined look on his face as soon as he sees him.

Kurt tries to slip away from him when he sees him making his way down the corridor, but he takes the wrong door and chooses the empty choir room. A dead end, Blaine thinks, good. Unless Kurt climbs out the window.

Blaine quickens his steps, bursts through the door seconds later. He needs to talk to him and he needs to do it now.

Kurt is standing on the back row of chairs, one leg up on the windowsill, looking like a deer in headlights as Blaine almost falls through the door.

“What -” Blaine gasps, catching his breath. “What are you doing?”

“I'm building a tree house,” Kurt answers, rolling his eyes, lowering his leg back down to the chair, but his fingers are still gripping the frame too tightly. “What does it fucking look like I'm doing?”

Blaine just looks at him. “Why are you climbing out the window?”

“Because there's no door in this wall?”

“I miss you,” Blaine blurts out, and it's not what he'd been meaning to say at all. But it's out there now.

Kurt looks pained. “Blaine, don't -”

“Can we be friends again?” he begs. “I won't ask you out again. I promise.”

“So you _were_ asking me out,” Kurt says, sounding triumphant as if winning an old argument. “You admit that that was supposed to be a date.”

“Uh, yes?” Blaine answers. “I thought that was why you left that day -”

“Well, yeah.” Kurt sighs. “But … I've been thinking since then, I thought maybe I got it wrong, maybe I was overreacting, maybe -”

“You didn't get it wrong,” Blaine assures him. “But you did overreact, a little.”

Kurt's eyes turn cold as he hops off the chair, descends the steps. “Oh, did I? And you get to decide what's an appropriate response and what isn't?”

“No, I -” Blaine takes a desperate step closer, waving his hands to come up with something less idiotic to say. “I'm sorry. I just – I just wanted to see a show with you. And instead we haven't talked in a month!”

“It was two weeks, Blaine.”

“It felt longer,” Blaine mumbles helplessly, eyes cast down to the floor.

“It wasn't,” Kurt says, almost as quietly. “Just two weeks. Well. Thirteen days. And like,” He pauses, staring at his watch for a second. “Seventeen hours and about thirty minutes.”

“Why did you leave?” Blaine asks. He just needs to know. “I didn't mean to freak you out.”

Kurt sighs again. “Good job!”

“Kurt!”

“I -” he hesitates, biting his lip. “I was shocked, okay?”

Blaine's head snaps up, eyes wide. “You mean you didn't know?”

“That you were going to ask me out on a date ten minutes after sex when I was ready to go home and spend the rest of my night playing video games with my idiot brother just so I would be too distracted to text you the entire time? No, Blaine, I didn't know that that was going to happen!”

Blaine snorts. “Not that part. I mean. You didn't know that I – that I liked you?”

Kurt shakes his head, corners of his mouth twitching a little. “No. I didn't.”

Blaine stares at him incredulously. “Then why do you think I was having sex with you all this time?”

Kurt shrugs, tilting his head at him. “I don't know. It feels really good. And it's not like you have many other options in this cow town -”

“Even with options, I would have wanted it to be you,” Blaine promises, and his heart is beating faster already. This is going a lot better than he'd hoped.

“But see, that's just not true,” Kurt insists. “I mean -” he gestures between them. “Just look at us. I'm … _this_ , and I like who I am, I'm proud of who I am, don't get me wrong. But then there's you with your cardigans and your fucking bow ties and your _manners_ , god Blaine, and you're so fucking adorable you don't even know, and do you really think you wouldn't have been swept off your feet by a dozen guys like you already if we weren't living in Nowhere, Ohio?”

Blaine swallows. “Those hypothetical guys,” he says, voice a little rough. “I wouldn't have let them sweep me anywhere. Least of all off my feet. You did that the first moment I saw you.”

“Blaine -” Kurt tries, pleading.

“So you ran off because of some guy that's not even real and decided I was better off with imaginary dates? That only existed in _your_ head, to make matters even more interesting.”

Kurt grins, a little embarrassed. “It sounds so horrible when you say it like that.” He shakes his head. “Blaine, I – I mean it. It was a shock. I never thought – and suddenly you were looking at me like that and I couldn't take it, I couldn't handle it not being real, so I -”

“So you stormed out before I could explain.”

“Yeah.”

“Why didn't you talk to me later?”

Kurt laughs. “I wanted to, but at first I was mad at you for complicating everything and then the longer I put it off the more impossible it seemed, so I just -”

“Please go out with me.” Blaine interrupts him. God, Kurt looks so cute when he rambles like that.

“Your tickets were for Thursday last week,” Kurt says lamely.

“Yeah, I went with my mom, it wasn't really that good.” Blaine shrugs. “Let's do something different. Let's – let's do dinner. We could – we could do dinner.”

“And then what?” Kurt asks, still sounding very skeptical about it all.

“And then you may kiss me goodnight afterwards, and I'll even wait until I'm sure you're home before I text you. Or I'll wait until I'm home before I text you. Depending on whose car we're using. And I'll probably keep texting you kissy faces all night until you get really annoyed with me, but I'll make it up to you the next day, which will be a Saturday, by showing up on your front porch with breakfast cheesecake and coffee. But I won't even be able to wait until you're done eating before I ask you if this means we're boyfriends now, and you'll burn your tongue on the coffee in shock, but I'll be there to kiss it better. And you'll say we can be boyfriends if I help you re-dye your hair, because you always rip the gloves and your fingers are all pink for days. And then we'll kiss and if your family isn't home, maybe you'll take me upstairs -”

“Wow,” Kurt interrupts, his smile a little stunned. He looks dizzy. “You've really thought about this a lot, huh?”

Blaine feels himself blush. “Well … yeah. I've had a lot of free time lately.”

Kurt nods, taking a careful step closer. “You know, if that breakfast is on a Saturday morning, that means we still have four days before the actual date. We should hang out before then, if you don't mind.”

“Oh my god,” Blaine launches himself into Kurt's arms, throwing his arms around his shoulders to cling tightly. “Of course I don't mind, I never mind spending more time with you, I missed you so much -”

Kurt hugs him back, and it's their first proper hug ever, which, after everything they've already done seems a little ridiculous. “I'm sorry I made you worry,” he whispers. “I'll make it up to you.”

Blaine pulls back enough so that they can look at each other. “My house is empty this afternoon.”

Kurt smiles, nudging their noses together softly before resting his forehead against Blaine's, the piercing in his eyebrow cold and familiar against Blaine's skin. “I could think of a thing or two we could do.”

Blaine hums happily, eyes closing on their own as they both tip their faces toward each other at the same time.

Over all the kissing they do in the choir room that morning, Blaine forgets to go to English. But he gets a date out of it, so he thinks he's allowed to be a bit distracted today.

And even during his other classes that day, he can't stop smiling, can't sop seeing pink hair and the gentlest smile and the prettiest eyes every time he closes his eyes.

He maybe-sort-of-almost has a boyfriend (he's pretty sure Kurt was kidding when he insisted on sticking to Blaine's plans and not calling it that before cheesecake on Saturday), and that's all that really matters to him right now anyway.

That, and the thought that this afternoon, when they'll be together, it will mean something. To both of them. And he can't wait to find out how much better everything will be because of that.


End file.
